Debate Prep
by Kikidevil17
Summary: Peter helps Alicia during debate prep.


**A/N: I wrote this before the sneak peek came out and the 6x11 promotional photos inspired it. I almost didn't post because the sneak peek took me out of my funk. But it's written; therefore I didn't want it to go to waste. I guess this can be an "alternative" look on how the scene could have been. This is not an A/P fix it fic (don't expect a happy ending). It is more about how I wished the open marriage was being handled on the show.**

**A huge thanks to Chefie1 she basically has guided me through all the fic writing!**

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><p>I stand behind the podium in a mostly empty room, the sound of my voice bouncing off the walls as the echo of my response about what the main responsibilities of the next State's attorney should be fills my ears. As I am going through my spill, at that moment, I see Peter walk through the double doors of the auditorium. His presence immediately makes me more nervous but doesn't waver my answer towards Finn, who is here helping me practice by filling in as Prady. I am very pleased in how I shaped my response up. Elfman is also here, acting as the role of Moderator, continuing to give me his usual poker face while I speak. I guess I'm doing okay since he hasn't interrupted me to say otherwise, as he did after I answered the first three questions he fired off. I assume <em>this<em> answer he approves. My tone is more 'calm' and 'filled with a penance of assurance', as he desired it to be, a stark contrast from my previously defiant and aggressive voice. Or at least I'm trying to make it sound the way he advised.

As I bring my comment to a close, my gaze rests on Peter, who chose not to interrupt our practice by remaining towards the entrance—standing—and observing me with his arms folded across his chest, a proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I've seen that exact smile many times—he's pleased. And this time he's pleased because _of me. _

After a few more exchanges between Finn and I and once the last syllable leaves my mouth, I notice that Finn and Elfman's attention is now on Peter as well, who is walking down the center aisle towards us. His hands are in his pockets with that smile still etched on his mouth. An aura of stealth power surrounds him as it often does when he walks into a room, catching each of their focuses, commanding their attention. It was no different now.

"I didn't know you were coming," I tell him as he says a quick 'Hello' to the guys then walks towards me, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek. I smile, of course, because even in this room, I have to. We are still playing my happily married charade, regardless if it's only Finn and Elfman as our audience.

"Eli mentioned I should swing by since I had a few free hours," he says. I nod in acknowledgment.

He leaves me briefly to stride over to Finn and shake his hand, not failing to mention how nice it is to see him again. I'm all but shocked. His statement surprises me at first because surely, he suspects I am sleeping with Finn, which he has accused me of multiple times in our heated arguments. It makes me wonder whether he no longer cares or if he's just putting on his best poker face right now.

"So, what do you think so far?" I ask once he comes back over to me after shaking Elfman's hand.

He drops his head and sighs before flashing me a smile. "Mostly good."

I know what that means because I have used those same words on him before when his debate wasn't going well.

I peer down at the small stack of index cards in my hand filled with topics and possible responses that I spent most of the night jotting down. My preparation now seems wasted after Peter's observation.

"Umm. Okay. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Well," he slips his hands back into his pockets, "your answers hit all the major points. It's obvious you are prepared, intelligent, qualified and well versed on the issues. However, so is Prady. And there's only one-way in which he can steal this debate from you, and that's by capturing the viewers. I'm not sure you are connecting with the audience. When Prady comes up here, he will no doubt resonate with the audience because it is what he does every day. Even though he is not a politician, he is a natural at public speaking and making people comfortable."

Shaping the cards into a neat stack, I slowly set them in a corner of the podium, resisting the urge to toss them on the floor. All of last night and the past hour I've been here appear to have been a waste. _Connect with the audience_? From the time we started this campaign up until now, that's the one thing I've struggled to do!

"What do you recommend I do?" I ask, looking at Finn and Elfman nervously, who have subjected to quietly watch Peter take over coaching me without so much as asking their permission. His actions told them that their help had been appreciated, but is no longer needed. He's here now.

My heart pace quickens when he walks around the podium to stand beside me, causing me to shift to the left and make room. The bright light beaming down on the stage causes me to squint when it reflects in my eyes.

"Well," he points his finger towards the front row where Elfman is sitting, "first, always look directly at the camera. It doesn't matter if the question is addressed to Prady or not. You can acknowledge him when you start to answer, but then shift your body directly towards the camera. You want to reach the audience _and_ the people at home. Almost as if you are talking directly to them."

"Okay."

I quickly pick up my pen to make a notation in my notepad while intently listening to his continued advice.

"As I said, your answers are very detailed and you obviously have studied the issues. But sometimes, small anecdotes make a world of difference because the voters get to realize you are just like them." He pulls his gaze away from the invisible camera and turns towards me, smiling. "At the end of the day, voters don't vote on policy, but likeability. You need to make them like you. So any chance you get, cite examples of the citizens you've met, how you want to help them and how they impacted your life."

"Okay," I say slowly as I set my pen down and tuck my hair behind my ears before looking back at him. "We have _one_ problem. I'm not sure I have that many anecdotes to share."

He laughs lightly. "Oh, don't you worry about that. I am sure you do. We have done tons of campaign events together. I can help refresh your memory. You only need to have one or two ready to spiel on command. You can even try to cite examples of clients you helped as a lawyer."

Nodding, my gaze shifts back to Finn, whom is still watching us attentively.

"What did you think of Finn's answers as Prady? Do you think it was an accurate portrayal of how he might respond?"

"From what I heard…" He quickly directs his attention towards Finn. "I hope you don't mind if I am blunt, Mr. Polmar?"

Finn purses his lips and shakes his head. "Oh, not at all. Be my guest. We are here to help Alicia. Honestly, I am not even sure why I am here since I don't know the first thing about debate prep."

I interject; I asked him to be here for a reason. It was not just on a whim.

"Finn, you are the most even tempered person I know. Your nature reminds me of Prady. I wanted a _real_ example."

He beams back at me and before he can say more, Peter walks around me to stand between us. I narrow my eyes on him, knowing what he is doing.

"Thank you for that, Mr Polmar. Now, uh, do you mind if I take your place behind the podium and practice with Alicia for a while?"

He smiles lightly in my direction. "Sure."

A sinking feeling swarms my gut as I watch him leave the stage and walk down the short set of steps to stand next to Elman while Peter settles into the role as my opponent. The _real_ practice is about to commence. He won't skirt the issues or play nice, as I know Finn has.

"Alicia?" says Elfman.

My head turns in his direction. "Hmm?"

"I need to take this call. I'll be right back." With a nod of my head, I watch him leave as that nervous feeling begins to consume my entire body. It's now just Peter, Finn and I. I can only hope for the best outcome.

"Do you mind asking some questions, Mr Polmar?" Peter asks while Elfman speedily flees the room with his phone glued to his ear.

As my husband straightens his tie and clears his throat, I can't help but notice his professionalism around Finn. It's really throwing me for a loop. Not because Peter isn't capable of playing nice, but I thought he would show more annoyance at the fact that I invited Finn to help me prepare. I know Peter can't stand him, but today, he is acting like Finn isn't the guy he is convinced I'm sleeping with, even though I am not. Does he not care anymore? Or does he finally believe me? Or maybe he truly was moving on...with Ramona? These thoughts are scrambling in my head but I really have no time to think about that now. I get myself in character to go toe-to-toe with Peter, excited for a real challenge.

Finn picks up Elfman's notes and ignites the debate with a question.

"Mr. Prady, why do you believe you are the best candidate to fill the State's Attorney's office?"

He grips the perimeter of the podium and glances down, pondering his answer for a split second before lifting his head and responding in a tone of confidence even I find envious.

"You know, Mr. Polmar, I grew up in Chicago and have spent my entire life here. I can tell you where the best, hidden restaurant is in this city and where you don't want to be caught late at night. I have always loved this city. I know Chicago has a massive crime and gun problem. I talk about this each week on my television show. Every single person who dies and is killed by gun violence, I am aware of."

I watch Peter in awe; he was always a natural at this.

"There was a story about a three-year-old boy that was killed a few weeks ago due to gun violence," he continues. "He was caught in the crossfire. I had his mother come on my show a few weeks later. And as she sat across me, fighting back tears as she told her story, I knew then what I have always known. I _had_ to help my city somehow. I needed to help these families not lose another loved one. I care about this city and its people, because this is _my_ city and _my_ people. That's why I believe I am the best candidate."

My eyes blink rapidly. He really wasn't going to go easy on me.

"How about you, Mrs. Florrick? Why do you believe you deserve to fill the State's Attorney's office?" Finn asks.

Inhaling a deep breath, I steel my spine as I reflect for a few seconds.

"Like Frank," I glance in Peter's direction briefly, "I grew up in Chicago, too. And I have been involved in the political word for a while. Therefore, I have seen both sides. As a defense attorney, I have witnessed innocent people not getting a fair shot on numerous occasions. But I also know the struggle of being a State's Attorney from my husband's time in office. He desperately tried to get criminals off the streets and to always gain fair verdicts. It is not an easy job at all. Chicago needs someone who has been in the system and knows how the system works. Someone who can hit the ground running."

I take a pause and direct my attention back at Peter. "How was that?"

He nods slowly. "Good. Nice touch calling him Frank and going back to you growing up in Chicago." He lessens his hold on the edges of the podium and leans his head to the side. "Your mention about being able to navigate both worlds is essential; it will hit home. A little quirk I would add is perhaps acknowledging his recount of gun violence. Maybe you can say, 'Frank, I have met mothers whom have also lost a son, a husband, a brother and close friend's. You can whole-heartedly believe that I am no stranger to the gun problem in Chicago. I myself lost a friend to gun violence.' It reminds the viewers you have life experiences." I quickly write that down, too. "You might also try to avoid saying you have been 'in the political' world for a long time. They already know that; no need to remind them since for some voters, this isn't necessarily a good thing."

I am still a bit surprised he recommends I subtly hint at the court shooting targeting Will. I would have thought he would run the other way on this issue. But he didn't.

"How about emphasizing my time as a defense attorney? That works right?"

He slowly nods. "I think it's very beneficial that you can speak about both perspectives. Definitely mention it. If you add some stories about client's who were rendered non-guilty verdicts, that will go a long way with the voters."

"Got it." I nod in acknowledgement. I think I am getting the hang of this now.

"How about some personal questions, Finn?" Peter suggests.

Finn looks down at the notes. "No problem. Give me one second." His eyes skim the sheet before peering back up at me. "Mrs. Florrick, what message do you think it sends to younger voters that your son got his girlfriend pregnant and then proceeded to have an abortion? What does that say about you as a mother?"

I can feel my face stiffen immediately at the question. Although I wanted my children to never be mentioned, I am not that naïve to know it's inevitable. I clear my throat and respond, "Well, as you know, I honestly don't think this is anyone's business…" I coldly begin with faint seriousness.

"Hold on, Alicia." Peter quickly cuts me off. I look to him with wide eyes. "Look, when you are angry, it's very clear on your face." I open my mouth to disagree but he shuts me up again. "I am not saying this because I have known you for twenty years. But the audience will be able to tell instantly, just like I did. Your face tenses up and loudly clearing your throat is another giveaway. Also? Your voice goes very flat and cold when you are angry."

It was chilling how well he still knows me and how he is able to clearly describe me. He's had nearly two decades of practice. He would know my pissed off face better than anyone else.

With a sigh, I reluctantly admit my flaw. "I know I tend to do that. So, how do you recommend I control my emotions when the children are brought up? What do you usually do?"

He smiles widely. "When I feel I am getting upset, I tend to focus on this one memory." A far away look coats his eyes as his voice grows soft. "It's of Grace when she was seven-years-old and she had her first dance recital. She was so adorable in her pink tutu. Do you remember?" he asks me.

I nod because I remember that moment like it was yesterday. And I truly can't believe that is the one memory he thinks about. His recollection causes a swarm of so many memories of that time to rush through my mind as I remember a time when everything was good between us. When were head over heels in love, had created the picture perfect family and our babies were young. Then, I fast forward to now. The deafening sadness nearly swallows me on this stage.

"That's what I usually try to think about when I sense myself getting angry. Maybe you can think of one, too?"

His voice brings me out of my fog. How long had he been talking?

"Mind if I steal that one?" I begin to jot down that note before he can object.

"Of course. It's a good one and good technique." He smiles at me before continuing on with his recommendations. "Also, when you answer this question, make it clear that the decision your children make does not attest to what type of State's Attorney you will be. Don't get defensive, but make it clear this line of questioning isn't necessary. Another tip? Try pulling Prady into the narrative, bowing that you both object to this line of question. He will look bad if he doesn't take your side. Oh, and one last thing. Make sure to say that you were aware of the abortion and of course, had a discussion with Zach. You need to try to find a balance between being dismissive, but at the same time letting the audience know you aren't an absentee mother."

"Got it. I am a good mother," I joke and we both chuckle.

We spend the rest of the next hour going back and forth on questions. Peter giving me pointers on what works and doesn't work for me since he has done this multiple times.

"I think you are going to be fine," he says about an hour later. "As long as you stay calm, remain focused and connect with the people, you will come out of this debate on equal footing with Prady. It is not about winning the debate, per say. It's more about not failing miserably. Most voters don't vote solely on your performance during the debate. Therefore if you make a mistake, you will be fine."

"Got it." I grab my belongings and beam up at him. "Thanks so much for doing this. Eli is going to be pissed I kept you this late," I tell him.

He smiles and slips his gaze towards the floor for a fraction of a second. "No worries. I will handle Eli. Besides, he wants you to win, too; he'll live. But I should get going and let you finish last minute prep things."

Leaving me, he walks over to Finn. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Polmar. Thank you for the help," he tells him as he shakes his hand.

"No problem," Finn says, nodding in my direction.

"I will speak to you later, Alicia," Peter says as he comes back to give me a kiss on the cheek. This time, I welcome his affection. I softly whisper a final, "thank you" in his ear.

Watching him exit, I smile to myself. I needed that; I needed him here. I needed his coaching and his reassurance. Even as tense as things have been between he and Finn, he pushed that animosity aside for me. I appreciated that. His help finally has me feeling somewhat comfortable about this debate.

Finn snaps me out of my daydream. "You two where really great together. Definitely a power house when you work together," he says as he walks back onto the stage.

"Yeah," I tell him and smile. That's the thing about Peter and I. A thing I'm sure everyone saw, even if we were pretending. When we are good together, we are _so_ good. "Alright, lets wrap this up."

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><p>Later that night after finally getting home, I toss my keys into the dish beside the door, along with my coat and bag, and make a beeline towards the kitchen to fill my wine glass to a brim with a fine Chardonnay. I desperately need it.<p>

"Hey, Mom!"

Mid-pour, I look up to see Grace waltz into the kitchen, a wide smile on her face. Uh-oh.

"Hey. How was your day?" I ask while planting a kiss on her forehead.

"It was good. How about yours?"

"It was pretty good. Got a lot of debate prep in…you even helped."

She slides into a bar stool chair and folds her hands together, a look of bemusement plastered on her innocent face. "I did? How?"

I set the bottle down and pick up my glass to walk around the island and slip into the seat next to her.

"Well, your Dad came over this afternoon and helped me a little bit. When the moderator begins to ask tough questions, he clued me in on how controls his emotions when he gets angry. Know what he said?"

"No…"

I smile as I bring my glass to my lips. "He said he thinks of you at your first dance recital in your pink tutu."

The sight of her mouth dropping open and eyes widen like saucers is nothing short of being comical.

"Oh my gosh! I can't believe Dad actually remembers that. But, I guess, how could he forget? He was always so excited for my recitals. He might have enjoyed them even more than me." She props her face into her hand and stares into the ceiling, reflecting. "I think he only missed one."

"Yes! He had to travel for work that weekend. He was so upset he had to miss it and didn't leave me alone all week. Everyday of that week when we spoke, he constantly reminded me to record it," I say with a laugh. It's at this simple memory that I'm once again reminded of the amount of time that has passed and how far we have truly shifted from each other.

"Dad must have been disappointed when I stopped dancing, huh?" Grace inquired.

Swallowing a savory mouthful, I shake my head as I deposit my glass back onto the countertop. "No. He loves you and accepted you made your own decisions. Even if that meant you put an end to his relentless videographer skills."

"Good," she laughs. "Okay, mom. I am going to head to bed; it's late. Night."

Grace climbs from the chair and hugs my neck tightly. For some reason, I don't want to let her go. All I can think of is my baby in her pink tutu, twirling around in disarray with the other seven-year-olds. Where has time truly gone?

"Night, sweetheart."

After finishing my wine and turning off all of the lights, while walking back to my bedroom, I can't help but think of Grace and Peter. How she would stay up and cry hysterically until he came from work and held her in his arms. How whenever she got hurt, the first person she wanted was, 'Daddy', and for him to kiss her boo-boo.

As I plop myself down onto my bed, I don't know what possesses me to do so, but I reach for the phone and decide to call Peter. He has been on my mind all day since leaving the debate prep. While the phone rings on the other end, I am not really all that sure what I am going to say, to be honest. The feeling of nostalgia never provides the right words in awkward moments such as this.

"This is Peter," he answers.

"Hey."

"Alicia…Hi. What's wrong?" he asks.

I find his question funny because lately, any time that I call, he always asks me the same question. It's as though he expects something bad to have happened because, why else would I be calling him? Why else could I possibly be calling if not because something happened? He thinks I have no other reason to phone him. And I guess that's partly my fault because I was the one that said that I wanted this.

"Oh, nothing. Just wanted to thank you again for today. I think your advice is going to be a great help."

I smile into the phone at the sound of his relieved sigh. It warms my heart that even though we're in this odd place, he would still do anything to protect the kids and me.

"Of course. No worries. Anything I can do to help you win."

"Thank you." And now, I don't know what to say next. A nerve-wracking silence permeates the line. There was a time we used to be comfortable with each other's silences. How do I fill the void?

"Alicia…you still there?" he finally asks.

"Yeah. I, umm...I talked to Grace tonight and told her about the advice you gave me. I mentioned you remembering her in her pink tutu," I blurt out. The topic of our kids is always a safe and easy way to fill an awkward void.

I hear Peter laughing on the other end. "How did she take it?"

"Good. She mentioned how you never missed any of her recitals except for that one time. Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course. I drove you crazy all week, reminding you to record the entire show. Which, by the way, you did perfectly. I appreciated that."

I laugh lightly, thinking of how he properly showed me his appreciation that night. " You are welcome. Do you still have that tape?"

"Yes I do, actually. Don't be mad," he teased. "It's one of the tapes I took with me when I moved out. It is at my apartment, if you ever want to watch it."

"Oh, very sneaky of you," I joked. "But that's okay. You can keep it."

"Thanks. By the way, don't tell Zach about this. He might get jealous." His teasing makes me laugh out loud.

"I won't. The last thing we want is our son to know you have a favorite child."

"Shhh, I don't," he says with a laugh. "By the way, how are you and Zach? Last time we talked, he mentioned you two were still not on good terms."

"We are doing okay. I'm trying to move on, but I am still so disappointed and angry with him. I can't believe he would lie to me like that."

"I completely understand, Alicia. Though, he is really sorry. He's your little boy after all. He didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know. I am trying to remember that," I whisper, blinking back the tears that threaten to fill my eyes.

"I know it is hard for you. I should know." I can hear the disappointment in his voice. He knows what it means to hurt me and not be able to regain my trust. "But do it for him. He sounded bummed when we talked about it a few weeks ago. He misses talking to you like before."

"I'll call him tomorrow."

"Good. I know it will mean a lot to him."

"To me, too." My eyes gravitate to the clock on my nightstand; it's getting late. "Well, I will leave you to finish your work, or whatever you have going on this evening. Just wanted to say thanks for the help."

"Of course. But I am not really doing much, just lying on the couch reading. Quiet night here."

"Here, too, now that Grace has gone to bed."_ It sucks to be alone at nights_, I think.

"Sucks to be alone, doesn't it?" It was like he could read my mind.

"It sure does. But at least I've got Grace."

"Lucky you! When she visits on the weekends, it is really my favorite part of the week."

"I bet! If you want, I can let her come over once during the week to keep you company?" I offer.

"No, that's okay. I will be a big boy and toughen up. Don't want to disturb her daily routine," he says, and then pauses for a second. "Don't let me keep you any longer," he finally says.

Though he can't see me, I'm nodding in gratitude, glad he is the one finally putting an end to the sudden awkwardness of this phone call which resembles two teenagers that have a crush on the other. It was a bit embarrassing.

"Have a good night, Peter."

"Goodnight, Alicia."

I can sense the disappointment in his voice, so I say something I have been wanting to say for a while.

"Hey, Peter."

"Yeah?"

"I am sorry about how things have been between us lately."

He sighs heavily. "I am sorry, too. I've been a real jerk, but I am trying to be better."

"Well, if you've been a jerk, what have I been?" Again, another laden pause consumes the silence. "No," I say quickly, "don't answer that. But really, I know you've been trying to be supportive of this situation as much as you can. And I want you to know I appreciate it even if you weren't on board with how we got here."

"I am trying to get on board. It's just hard at times. This arrangement is…" I know he is trying to find the right words. "New," he finally says.

"I know. I wish I could say more but whatever today was between us, that felt nice and comfortable, so let's keep it up."

"Sounds good."

"Well, goodnight, Peter."

"Night, Alicia. I miss you."

And now I'm the one stuck because I don't really know what to say. All I can muster is, "Goodnight. Have a nice day tomorrow," before I can hang up. I close my eyes and bang my head against the bed frame as I say aloud, "Miss you, too." It was a phrase I wouldn't dare let him hear me say.

Even though I feel it, too.

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><p><em>This is a one shot, I wished AP would work together during this campaign rather than fight all the time. So this is why I wrote it._


End file.
